Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Home again, Home again...

We just got back yesterday from our little trip. It was 1/4 adoption business, 1/4 family visit and ½ pure vacation, all in four and half days.

Here’s a few days in the mind of Danny and Steph on a trip.

Wednesday—Thoughts on class and entitlement in air travel
What is the psychological profile of a person who reclines their seat all the way back on a 58 minute flight? Two seconds after we reach altitude, Danny’s face is three inches from the grey leather seat of the person in front of him. So we had to wonder, I mean, this isn’t the overseas leg to Paris, it’s not the red eye. It’s an hour hop from Charlotte to Pittsburgh. It did not at all surprise us to find out while exiting the aircraft that the person who puts their seat all the way back is also the person who wears diamond earrings the size of kittens and brought her own cashmere blankie.


Thursday—Off to see the wizards
Giving someone the task of connecting you with your future child takes an enormous amount of trust. After meeting the people at IAG, I believe in them with my whole heart. We have to be ready for disappointments, for challenges, possibly for big, big heartaches, but somehow after spending four hours at the agency going over those possibilities, I felt like a great big balloon of hope.

We left the building wondering what our kid will look like, when to move the furniture out of my office, what time of year we’d get to see Moscow, and what to do with the dog when we have to stay in Russia for six weeks (because our dog is the most spoiled Jack Russell Terrier on the block, that is a fact.)


Friday—A visit to Grandma
It was harder than I thought being in Canton and not seeing my grandma. The hurt of being up that way and not being able to hug her ran very deep. We visited her grave, not far from the house where she raised me, and were reminded of the fleeting nature of life and the importance of enjoying every second and not rushing to the next.

I resolve to enjoy even these waiting times. I will revel in this fuzzy, romantic, sometimes frantic, anticipation period before I’m scrubbing grape jelly off the couch cushions and cleaning up someone else’s puke.

We visit Put-in-Bay, a little village nestled into the Lake Erie islands. We rent a golf cart and drive around the whole island wondering why we don’t drive golf carts more often. We go to the observation deck at the War of 1812 Peace Memorial and after our visit are sure of two things. One, we don’t know a lot about the war of 1812. Two, elevators to observation decks should institute a no farting rule.


Saturday—14 hours in a theme park
(Because Danny and I don’t just go to a theme park, we wring it out.)

We spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out why it is we will jump out of airplanes and ride rollercoasters that travel 120 mph and drop you straight down 420 feet, and yet, on the big ferris wheel we have to actively try not to freak out. We sympathize with the four year old girl crying and begging her parents not to take her on. If there were some sort of emergency button that alerted the operator to an impending panic attack, we’d probably be the ones to push it.

Later in the day, we identified the different species of douchebags that can be found in theme parks. The variety we spotted in line for The Mantis was the hipster who insists on wearing all his hipster paraphernalia to a rollercoaster park, skinny jeans, leather wrist cuff, back pocket hankie, various necklaces and rings, all worn while snickering that he’s really too cool for this world. Also identified were several people who wanted to punch that dude.

For the second time in a year we realize that we are by far the oldest people in line and have been riding roller coasters since before the majority of other line waiters were born.

Every time we pass the kiddie rides, I mentally plan a future trip with our kid(s) and can tell by the little smile on his face that Danny is doing the same thing.


Sunday—Homework
I used the plane rides home to get started on the 400 page binder of information we’re supposed to read about adopting toddlers. I get stuck on the page of Russian names and their corresponding diminutives and start giving myself and my friends Russian nick names in my head. Stepanoschka, Alosha, Canushcka, Davel, Loruski…


I’m glad to be home and gearing up to start phase two, getting our dossier ready for Russia. We have to do ten hours of online training courses, get a psychological evaluation and take some pictures of our house (which means we have to clean it first and fix the holes I made in the bathroom wall.)

It’s exciting to think that maybe, just maybe, if the stars are smiling upon me, by this time next year I’ll be writing about the latest crazy hilarious situation my kid got into…

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm so......... excited for you guys. Thanks for sharing this time with us by keeping us posted. I love to read your updates. Keep them coming.... Sandra

Jocelyne said...

Purple hair to the adoption agency? Might have to try that for work Monday;) Glad to hear things went well and you had some fun girl.

lynn said...

We are going to have to do a crash course in favorite kid books and songs for you. I used to sing to Madeleine all the time when I taught 1st graders!

Tony said...

I wear bracelets, necklaces, and rings- yet I cry out, if you cut me, do I not bleed?!? I am not an animal!!! LOL-

Sigh...I guess it's a good thing I don't fit in skinny jeans...

Steph said...

The question is, do you wear them to a day of roller coaster riding that will require you to hold up the line removing all those items every time you get on a ride...

I don't mind accessories in day to day wear, just don't get between me and my roller coaster time...